Rebel Heart
Page 20
Not sickness, he says. It’s . . . her mind ain’t right. Please, lady, she might take notice of you.
He presses his hands together, holds ’em out to Auriel. Beggin fer help.
Take me to her, she says.
We follow as he hurries between the row of tents, talkin all the while. They took our oldest girl, see, our Nell, he says. She’s only jest ten. When they run us offa our place an give it to the Stewards, they took Nell away in the prison cart. They took her with ’em.
Ten year old. Emmi’s age.
The Tonton, says Auriel.
Ruth blames me, he says. Says I should of fought. But one man got no chance aginst so many, an I ain’t no good to nobody dead. After that, she couldn’t sleep fer worryin about Nell an she wouldn’t let our little one, our Rosie, move from her side.
Jest as we reach his junk shanty, there’s a wild scream from inside. The man ducks through the door. Auriel’s right behind him. I tell Tracker to stay. As I go in, outta the corner of my eye, I catch a rush of darkness. Hear a shiver of laughter. Cold sweat breaks on my skin.
Go away, I says.
Inside, it’s only jest high enough fer me to stand upright. It’s dim. No light but what slants through the door. Aginst the far wall, a woman sits in a chair. She cradles the little girl, Rosie, on her lap. Clutches her close to her chest. She rocks back an forth, keenin. It’s a raw, animal, unbearable sound. Three other women hover, anxious, around her.
The fever took her two days since, says the man, but Ruth won’t give her up to be burnt. The fever, lady. It ain’t safe, it ain’t right the dead should be among the livin.
Auriel takes off her eyeshield an goes to Ruth. Her cool voice ripples an murmurs, ripples an murmurs. Ruth shakes her head, clutchin her dead child even closer. No, no, no, no, no, she moans. The women an Auriel try to loosen her grip. Another wild scream.
The man looks at me, helpless. Would you try? he says.
Me, I says.
Please, he says.
My feet take me over to Ruth. I kneel beside her as she rocks back an forth. I says nuthin fer a bit, then, My sister’s called Emmi, I says. She’s ten, jest like yer Nell. I used to think she was useless. Too young to stand up an be counted. Turns out she’s a real fighter. I never thought she would be, but she is. She’s a survivor. I bet Nell’s jest the same.
She don’t look at me, she keeps her face buried in Rosie’s hair, but I can tell she’s listenin. That’s how I know what she’s doin right now, I says. Becuz it’s what Emmi’d be doin. She’ll be watchin an thinkin an . . . plannin how to git away. How to git back to you. An she won’t ever give up till she does. So don’t you give up neether. You owe it to her. An yer man. It’s the livin that need us, not the dead. They’re past all that.
Rosie’s only wearin a short, thin shift. I take my tunic off, lay it over top of the child.
Here, I says, you want her decent.
My body’s heavy. My head’s empty. I’m spent.
I’m sorry fer yer loss, I says.
As me an Auriel start to go, the man’s face changes. He rushes over to his wife, to Ruth. She’s opened her arms. As she begins to weep, as he gathers up his dead child fer the pyre, we leave.
We step outside. The sun so bright. The colours dazzle my eyes. The trees, the water, the sky. The noise. Too much.
Dogs bark. People chat. Cookfires smoke an crackle. Down at the river they’re washin clothes. The pound pound of the washrocks. Children play and chase. The thunder of runnin feet. The bubble of cookpots. The yip of a dog. A sniff. A cough. A sigh.
The shadows of the dead creep out from between the shelters. They gather at the edges of who I am.
Let us in, they sigh. They crowd me. Press me. They’re closin around me. Let us in, let us in, let us in, they chant.
I cain’t keep ’em out no more.
Tracker whines.
Saba? says Auriel. Saba, are y’okay?
She’s holdin my arm, lookin at me. But all I see is myself. Me. Reflected in the dark of her eyeshield. Another Saba. In the darkness. Lookin out at me.
Jest then, a child shrieks. I turn. Slowly, slowly I turn.
A girl teeters atop a loaded wagon. Her playmates stand below. They egg her on to jump. They shout, they promise to catch her. She shouts back. Showin off. Excited to be with other kids.
It’s Emmi, says Auriel. That’s way too high. Emmi! she shouts. Stay there! She starts to run towards ’em.
Suddenly Emmi spots me. Hey, Saba! she yells. Look at me!
Suddenly Epona spots me at the edge of the trees. The world slams to a stop. There ain’t nuthin an nobody else. Jest Epona an me an the sound of my heart.
Beat, beat, beat.
An it all happens slowly. So slow, I can see the blink of her eyelids. I can see her lips move as she takes in a breath.
Emmi beams. She calls. She waves.
Tears blur my sight. I wipe ’em away. I lift my bow. I take aim. Epona smiles. She nods. She starts to run towards me. She throws her arms wide open an lifts up her face. She leaps offa the roof. She soars through the air. Fer one last moment, she’s free.
She flings her arms wide. She leaps.
My hands shake so bad that I cain’t shoot. I don’t shoot her.
Epona falls. Right into the arms of the Tonton below.
Hands reach out. They grab her. Hit her. Pull her down. Bodies surge, closin over her. She disappears.
Hands reach out. They grab at her. Pull her down. Bodies surge, closin over her. She disappears.
No, I says. Then I scream it, NO! An I start to run.
Then I’m there. Grabbin the Tonton by their arms. Throwin ’em off Epona. Then I got her, I saved her, she’s here, she ain’t dead, she’s okay. An I’m pullin her into my arms.
I got you, I says, I got you, Epona, it’s okay, everythin’s gonna be okay. Git away! I yell. Don’t touch her! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.
I hold her to me. Rock us back an forth. Epona’s weepin.
Shhh, I says. It’s okay. I saved you, I saved you, I didn’t kill you.
Saba, she sobs. Saba, what’s wrong with you?
Epona. Epona . . . no . . . Emmi. Emmi’s voice. Emmi, I . . . I’m holdin Emmi. Her face twisted with fear, streaked with tears.
We was playin Saba an the Tonton, she whispers. I was bein you.
Slowly, my arms loosen around her. She scrambles to her feet. I raise my head. People all around. Shocked faces. Eyes starin at me. The kids Emmi was playin with. Kids, not Tonton. A couple of ’em cryin. One’s nursin his arm, cries out when somebody tries to see what’s wrong. Did I do that? Lilith. Meg. Tommo. Lugh, with Emmi clingin to him, her face buried in his side. Auriel. Tracker. Everybody lookin at me.
Nero flutters down to land beside me. Auriel comes over. She holds out her hand. I take it an she helps me to my feet. She takes off her eyeshield an looks at me. The shaman with the wolfdog eyes.
I can banish the dead, she says. Prepare you fer what lies ahead.
I’m ready, I says.
Auriel puts up the vision lodge. It’s a special tent that her grandfather used fer many years, set atop a firepit that she gits Lugh an Tommo to dig.
She burns sage leaves an sprinkles herb water to purify the lodge. She lights a fire in the pit. It burns down till the rocks piled in the centre glow red-hot. She brews a cactus tea. She puts two water-filled buckets with dippers next to the fire. An one empty basin. She ties seed rattles around her wrists an ankles. Brings her shaman’s drum.
He presses his hands together, holds ’em out to Auriel. Beggin fer help.
Take me to her, she says.
We follow as he hurries between the row of tents, talkin all the while. They took our oldest girl, see, our Nell, he says. She’s only jest ten. When they run us offa our place an give it to the Stewards, they took Nell away in the prison cart. They took her with ’em.
Ten year old. Emmi’s age.
The Tonton, says Auriel.
Ruth blames me, he says. Says I should of fought. But one man got no chance aginst so many, an I ain’t no good to nobody dead. After that, she couldn’t sleep fer worryin about Nell an she wouldn’t let our little one, our Rosie, move from her side.
Jest as we reach his junk shanty, there’s a wild scream from inside. The man ducks through the door. Auriel’s right behind him. I tell Tracker to stay. As I go in, outta the corner of my eye, I catch a rush of darkness. Hear a shiver of laughter. Cold sweat breaks on my skin.
Go away, I says.
Inside, it’s only jest high enough fer me to stand upright. It’s dim. No light but what slants through the door. Aginst the far wall, a woman sits in a chair. She cradles the little girl, Rosie, on her lap. Clutches her close to her chest. She rocks back an forth, keenin. It’s a raw, animal, unbearable sound. Three other women hover, anxious, around her.
The fever took her two days since, says the man, but Ruth won’t give her up to be burnt. The fever, lady. It ain’t safe, it ain’t right the dead should be among the livin.
Auriel takes off her eyeshield an goes to Ruth. Her cool voice ripples an murmurs, ripples an murmurs. Ruth shakes her head, clutchin her dead child even closer. No, no, no, no, no, she moans. The women an Auriel try to loosen her grip. Another wild scream.
The man looks at me, helpless. Would you try? he says.
Me, I says.
Please, he says.
My feet take me over to Ruth. I kneel beside her as she rocks back an forth. I says nuthin fer a bit, then, My sister’s called Emmi, I says. She’s ten, jest like yer Nell. I used to think she was useless. Too young to stand up an be counted. Turns out she’s a real fighter. I never thought she would be, but she is. She’s a survivor. I bet Nell’s jest the same.
She don’t look at me, she keeps her face buried in Rosie’s hair, but I can tell she’s listenin. That’s how I know what she’s doin right now, I says. Becuz it’s what Emmi’d be doin. She’ll be watchin an thinkin an . . . plannin how to git away. How to git back to you. An she won’t ever give up till she does. So don’t you give up neether. You owe it to her. An yer man. It’s the livin that need us, not the dead. They’re past all that.
Rosie’s only wearin a short, thin shift. I take my tunic off, lay it over top of the child.
Here, I says, you want her decent.
My body’s heavy. My head’s empty. I’m spent.
I’m sorry fer yer loss, I says.
As me an Auriel start to go, the man’s face changes. He rushes over to his wife, to Ruth. She’s opened her arms. As she begins to weep, as he gathers up his dead child fer the pyre, we leave.
We step outside. The sun so bright. The colours dazzle my eyes. The trees, the water, the sky. The noise. Too much.
Dogs bark. People chat. Cookfires smoke an crackle. Down at the river they’re washin clothes. The pound pound of the washrocks. Children play and chase. The thunder of runnin feet. The bubble of cookpots. The yip of a dog. A sniff. A cough. A sigh.
The shadows of the dead creep out from between the shelters. They gather at the edges of who I am.
Let us in, they sigh. They crowd me. Press me. They’re closin around me. Let us in, let us in, let us in, they chant.
I cain’t keep ’em out no more.
Tracker whines.
Saba? says Auriel. Saba, are y’okay?
She’s holdin my arm, lookin at me. But all I see is myself. Me. Reflected in the dark of her eyeshield. Another Saba. In the darkness. Lookin out at me.
Jest then, a child shrieks. I turn. Slowly, slowly I turn.
A girl teeters atop a loaded wagon. Her playmates stand below. They egg her on to jump. They shout, they promise to catch her. She shouts back. Showin off. Excited to be with other kids.
It’s Emmi, says Auriel. That’s way too high. Emmi! she shouts. Stay there! She starts to run towards ’em.
Suddenly Emmi spots me. Hey, Saba! she yells. Look at me!
Suddenly Epona spots me at the edge of the trees. The world slams to a stop. There ain’t nuthin an nobody else. Jest Epona an me an the sound of my heart.
Beat, beat, beat.
An it all happens slowly. So slow, I can see the blink of her eyelids. I can see her lips move as she takes in a breath.
Emmi beams. She calls. She waves.
Tears blur my sight. I wipe ’em away. I lift my bow. I take aim. Epona smiles. She nods. She starts to run towards me. She throws her arms wide open an lifts up her face. She leaps offa the roof. She soars through the air. Fer one last moment, she’s free.
She flings her arms wide. She leaps.
My hands shake so bad that I cain’t shoot. I don’t shoot her.
Epona falls. Right into the arms of the Tonton below.
Hands reach out. They grab her. Hit her. Pull her down. Bodies surge, closin over her. She disappears.
Hands reach out. They grab at her. Pull her down. Bodies surge, closin over her. She disappears.
No, I says. Then I scream it, NO! An I start to run.
Then I’m there. Grabbin the Tonton by their arms. Throwin ’em off Epona. Then I got her, I saved her, she’s here, she ain’t dead, she’s okay. An I’m pullin her into my arms.
I got you, I says, I got you, Epona, it’s okay, everythin’s gonna be okay. Git away! I yell. Don’t touch her! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.
I hold her to me. Rock us back an forth. Epona’s weepin.
Shhh, I says. It’s okay. I saved you, I saved you, I didn’t kill you.
Saba, she sobs. Saba, what’s wrong with you?
Epona. Epona . . . no . . . Emmi. Emmi’s voice. Emmi, I . . . I’m holdin Emmi. Her face twisted with fear, streaked with tears.
We was playin Saba an the Tonton, she whispers. I was bein you.
Slowly, my arms loosen around her. She scrambles to her feet. I raise my head. People all around. Shocked faces. Eyes starin at me. The kids Emmi was playin with. Kids, not Tonton. A couple of ’em cryin. One’s nursin his arm, cries out when somebody tries to see what’s wrong. Did I do that? Lilith. Meg. Tommo. Lugh, with Emmi clingin to him, her face buried in his side. Auriel. Tracker. Everybody lookin at me.
Nero flutters down to land beside me. Auriel comes over. She holds out her hand. I take it an she helps me to my feet. She takes off her eyeshield an looks at me. The shaman with the wolfdog eyes.
I can banish the dead, she says. Prepare you fer what lies ahead.
I’m ready, I says.
Auriel puts up the vision lodge. It’s a special tent that her grandfather used fer many years, set atop a firepit that she gits Lugh an Tommo to dig.
She burns sage leaves an sprinkles herb water to purify the lodge. She lights a fire in the pit. It burns down till the rocks piled in the centre glow red-hot. She brews a cactus tea. She puts two water-filled buckets with dippers next to the fire. An one empty basin. She ties seed rattles around her wrists an ankles. Brings her shaman’s drum.
